Rekindling Faith
by IvoryMoonlight
Summary: A one-shot about Caspian's thoughts and feelings after the raid on the Telmarine Castle and how he restored the Narnians' faith in him. ONESHOT/\\MOVIEVERSE Please R&R !


_AUTHOR'S NOTE!_

_Another one-shot of mine, but this focuses just on Caspian. There is some Susan/Caspian but NO SUSPIAN whatsoever(which is weird since I am a great supporter of this ship XD) and perhaps you can consider it as slightly Caspian/Miraz since his train of thoughts focuses mostly on his uncle and his cruelty. This one-shot is quite pointless, really. _

_I came up with it on March 25th which is a big, celebrating day of the Greek Revolution in 1821 and you can say that day inspired me into writing this. I just thought it appropriate to have Caspian giving a little speech after the raid on the Telmarine Castle and having everyone's trust in him restored anew. _

_So I hope you won't be bored while reading this and I hope that you could give me some constructive criticism. I do need it and long for it! _

_So enjoy!_**  
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><p>Blood. Too much blood. And pain, and agony, and regret and so many other things the young Telmarine wished not to give a name to, things that he despised were now the only things surrounding him from everywhere, threatening to choke him with their sorrowful and anguished noise of suffering and their disgusting, metallic smell of blood and fear that was wafting in the air of Aslan's How, of a sacred, holy place where laughter and the happiness of prosperity and peace were supposed to rule.<p>

Injured and heavily wounded Narnians were everywhere all around him and the young, innocent Queen Lucy shared the magical healing qualities of her cordial, letting only the ones who truly had need to taste her Christmas' present's sweet, angelic flavor have a drop. She had to spare most of it for the final battle, the one that would deem the fates of all of them. For surely Miraz would respond to the sudden raid on his impenetrable and oh so precious castle.

For quite some time now, the evil Telmarine Lord had ordered that a bridge be constructed over the torrent of waters of Beruna's river so that he and his great army would cross it and get to the Narnians in order to finish what his ancestors had thought had been done with; exterminate all of Narnians (now along with their sovereigns) and own that glorious kingdom.

Said raid had meant to save them from the upcoming battle, to prevent them from suffering the loss of great warriors and noble ones as well and the defeat that would bring along. However, it had all gone wrong and half of the squad of gallant, courageous Narnian troops and defenders of Narnia had been brutally killed by Telmarine crossbow bolts or blades and they were lying on the cold, stone floor of Miraz's great castle.

He could not really blame the tragedy on himself, however thoughts of him actually having followed the exact plan King Peter had made, showed a possibility of how things would have turned out. How was he expected to ignore the capture of his Professor and let him lie on the damp floor of his cell? But how could he have been expected to erase from his memory the things that had accidentally slipped from Dr. Cornelius's tongue and not search for the truth about his father's death? Should he have just let it got and not find Miraz before the Pevensies did?

The Telmarine rage boiling in his face, rushing through underneath his olive skin, was a Telmarine trait, something he could not help or escape from. He could just unleash it to the one deserving it. And he still had gotten no satisfaction. He would only get one when he had Miraz before him on his knees while he, Caspian, would had his grip around a sword's handle, letting Miraz feel the coolness of his sharp blade against his jaw's skin.

But perhaps that raid was meant to turn out a disaster, perhaps it was against Aslan's will and plan, if Aslan was real. Not that he had any doubts but as a Telmarine, he was not sure if he should believe or not. The Narnian he was in heart screamed at him to let his faith rely on the Great Lion who was somehow helping and protecting them from afar.

On the other hand, he could never really blame the High King though he certainly couldn't understand him, figure him out. The young man was obviously puzzled, perplexed, uncertain. After all, he had returned to a Narnia he did not recognize, for 1300 years had passed since his glorious reign. It was only logical and excusable that he felt at loss, he obviously wished to do what was best for his country and people. The only problem was that he was not sure which tactic or method to apply in order to protect his land. Nor was he ready or willing to face that fact.

That explained his constant vexation and nervousness, to be sure. Now the clearly resentful feelings the blond King held so obviously for Caspian, the young Prince couldn't explain. There was the theory of his leadership and faith of his people in him being threatened by Caspian, despite Caspian's efforts to show somehow to the High King that he wished no such thing, but that was beside the point.

The point was that Narnians were dead and other injured and he couldn't do a thing about that. And it was that very night he had finally met with the real Miraz, the one hiding underneath a mask of calm. The man who had murdered his father for the throne and wished to dispatch him too. The savage tyrant who murdered carelessly and coolly half an army of Narnians just out of lust of power. These people had been suffering for 13 eons, they had spent years and years hiding, fearing, suffering under the rule of the Telmarines. They had been banished from their homes and their enchanted, beautiful land. And they deserved nothing less than their freedom.

His fists clenched, practically digging his dirty fingernails in his palm's flesh, while he gritted his teeth as rage and fury burnt in him, caused by the dreadful sight his eyes were looking upon and by the injustice and pity he felt.

He sensed a hand brushing against his shoulder and he jumped startled and tense, his hand instinctively driven on his sword's hilt. But it was merely the young Queen Susan.

"I…I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you. But you seem…troubled. I can tell something bothering you."

His whole body instantly relaxed and he withdrew his hand from his sword. He silently sat again on the rock he was previously resting on, the Gentle Queen's presence radiating a warmth of comfort and worry. It felt silken, pleasant. She was living up to her title each and every moment and she didn't even seem to be aware of that."It's just…" he hated being at a lack of words but he wasn't sure of what exactly he was supposed to tell her. He knew she, of all people, would not misjudge him but he still felt awkward. "The High King is right." He sighed in resign, lowering his head just a bit. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have-"

"Caspian, please, don't say that. Don't even think of it!" she gently cut him off, an expression on her face that informed him she expected him to feel like that. "You did what your heart told you to and I'm glad of it. I'm even envious. I don't have this talent, following what my heart says. I'm trying but I do not always succeed in it. Well, it is a gift when you know how to use it, to know when to listen to your heart and when to ignore it."

"Then I do not have this gift you speak of." He solemnly observed. But she objected, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Despite her being merely sixteen, he felt her as the most motherly figure his eyes had ever beheld. The protective and gentle aura shimmering in her ocean-blue orbs was lessening his guilt.

"I must admit that things might have been different had you been faithful to Peter's plan." Despite her trying to speak carefully and being polite, her words made him avert his eyes away in shame. "However, it is no good dwelling on what could have been. Quite the contrary, actually. Not to mention Peter could have done better than this stupid raid, you know I never sided with him on that one. No matter, everything that happens has a reason, a purpose. Aslan would never have allowed this to happen, if there weren't a lesson to be learned. He must know what he's doing, he always does."

"A lesson?" he repeated the word in disbelief. "And so many had to give their lives so that I or you or your siblings would learn a lesson? How is that fair?" he hissed in silent rage.

"Life isn't fair, Prince!" she objected and he could actually see she spoke out of personal experience. Aslan knew what fate had truly had in store for her or her family and what horrid things she had witnessed. "I'm sure those Narnians considered it an honour to sacrifice themselves for the rest of us, for Narnia and Aslan. They believed it was Aslan's will so they accepted their fates and fought even harder for a free Narnia. They believed in it! Do you not?"

"I do too! But not in this way! Never in this way!" he exclaimed passionately, a wave of fury washing over him as he recalled anew the horrible cries of Narnians who gave their lives in the Castle's courtyard and the grief and sorrow showing on the faces of mothers and wives who lost their loved ones. "Those Narnians had put their faith on me, their lives even! And I failed them. I failed protecting them, offering what I had promised!" he couldn't prevent himself from yelling, but not at the Queen but at his own folly and self and he was fueled by the hatred he felt for Miraz.

Some Narnians quitted their previous occupations and some of the injured managed to sit up on the stony floor they were lying on, all trying to watch the Prince unleashing his anger and disappointment at himself. Curiosity, puzzlement, wonder reflected in the eyes of them all. The Prince's fiery ones traveled across the room, studying their faces. Their silence only gave him the courage and motive to continue with his little speech.

"I have failed you all." He said softly, addressing each and every one of them but forgetting the young girl standing beside him. "But I intend to make it up to you and to beg for the forgiveness of those who gave their lives so that you will one day be free again. And believe me when I say, this day is drawing nearer and nearer!"

His clear, heavy voice held the strength and solemn promise of a true leader and just ruler. "I will make sure of that…" he added in a lower, yet as powerful voice. "Yes, I will make sure that day comes soon, the day when you shall be living free once again in the land that rightfully belongs to you!" The determination and stubbornness of a Prince reflecting in his dark, almost menacingly narrowed orbs made those present to exchange glances and nods in silent agreement and approval. "But I have to know whether you still have faith in me or not. Do you?"

At his kind, hopeful request, none of the Narnians hesitated to throw victoriously their fists in the air and yell cheerfully in acquiesce, putting a small smile on Caspian face, restoring his valiance and self-esteem. A bubble of relief and courage grew in his chest ready to burst at the knowledge that despite his foolish and rash actions, he still had them on his side, he still had their trust and support. "I thank you, my friends, and I give you my word that I shan't let you down again. And that I will give my life for a free, new Narnia and for you!"

He stood proudly before them, elated, a grin, almost boyish, curled up on the corner of his lips. He had to admit he enjoyed being trusted and loved and applauded. Maybe it was because he had never gotten as much support during his childhood as he was now, except by his Professor who always supported him and stood by his side. He could spot him even now, on a corner supporting himself against a wall, and applauding him fervently with a wide smile of pride on his silvery-bearded lips. Caspian owed him so much, he only hoped that he would live up to the man he wanted him to become.

An awkward, almost mechanical and rehearsed cough made him dart his dark eyes over his shoulder only to meet with the High King's piercing, blue ones. Peter avoided eye-contact with him and seemed a bit out of his depths. Perhaps he was still shaken by their little fight and his almost bringing back from the dead the Witch (a fact Caspian didn't even want to ever think about again). "For the record," Peter started speaking nervously. "the reason of us going through all this trouble is to protect you so that you can ascend…ablebodied and…in one piece on the throne."

Caspian gave him a puzzled, funny look but had no time to be surprised by the blond King's words as the youngest King patted him on the back, startling him and making him take a step forward. "He's right, you know!" he said in genuine vigorousness before turning to his brother. "Susan had a talk with you, didn't she?"

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><p><em>Sorry for the abrupt ending, this is as far as I can take a pointless one-shot :) Please tell me what you thought! It will be much appreciated! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing (if you do!) Love you all!<br>_


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